


Kissing in the New Year

by TheonSugden



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-06 06:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3125087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb makes an angry breakfast. Theon is confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing in the New Year

**Author's Note:**

> Robb and Theon are around the same age in this fic.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!" the forcefully cheery voice rang out from the kitchen. 

Theon had the worst hangover since the last World Cup, but even through the fog of the duvet covering his entire body, he knew Robert wasn’t a happy boy.

He was even scraping the eggs out of the pan like they’d stabbed his mum. Each brutalized yolk made Theon want to drown in the pillow.

Theon staggered from the bedroom, belatedly realizing that Robb was only wearing a tight white t-shirt (the one that always made a map of his chest hair) and even tighter pants. Even with a splitting headache, Theon’s own thin boxers weren’t going to do much to hide his morning (OK OK more like 3-PM greeting…still not the latest he’d ever slept in) greeting for his flatmate.

Before he could go back to his room for a wank, Robb threw a piece of toast at his bare feet.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Theon spat.

"If you don’t sit down in the next ten seconds, that’s your breakfast."

"Robb…"

"Make that five seconds," Robb interrupted.

This dominant side of his best mate went straight to parts that made sitting down seem like a better and better idea.

Theon drummed his fingers on the table, trying to distract himself from staring at Robb’s body in the last steps of cooking breakfast by watching the way Robb’s hair curled and frizzed in the unusually sunny January weather.

He remembered something now. He’d been so drunk last night, it was just torn pieces of a picture, but…

"Robb?"

They’d been dancing…

"Are you mad??"

Ginger curls sweaty and heavy in his fingers as they danced and kissed, bodies in tune, in a world of their own…

"What do YOU think?" Robb broke through, slightly burnt eggs and toast and jam (thankfully not burnt) and orange juice shoved onto the table in front of him.

He dabbed at the splatter of orange juice that now decorated his chest, trying to remember whatever he could. He was pretty sure they hadn’t gone further than a kiss, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t brave enough to ask right now. Clearly Robb felt used, or hurt. Theon turned colder than the toast on the floor at the thought of losing Robb from his life. He’d told himself long ago that he’d take Robb as a friend if he could have nothing else. He’d never really gotten anything he wanted, anyway. Why should this be any different? At least he still had Robb. 

Until last night, anyway.

He made up his mind.

"Robb?"

He repeated the name a few more times, ignored each time. 

He finally resorted to throwing his toast at Robb’s back, the projectile landing right above his pert and perfect arse.

"What???" Robb snapped, angry enough to make Theon want to hide behind the plate as if it were a shield.

"A-About last night…" he began.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

He’d rarely heard Robb sound so firm, or so wounded. He just realized that Robert hadn’t looked him in the eye the entire time he’d been in the kitchen.

He wanted to grant Robb’s request, he wanted to try to put Robb first, as he’d often done, but deep down inside, he just couldn’t this time. Something didn’t feel right.

"I-I’m sorry about…" 

The words choked in his throat, the thought of a kiss disgusting Robb this much making him want to run and hide.

"I’m sorry I kissed you."

Now Robb did look at him, but Theon almost wished he wasn’t, as he was sure if Robb had superpowers, Theon would be a pile of dust on top of the toast.

"Are you having a laugh?" Robb asked, slamming the plate down like a character from a soap opera. "You kissed Loras. Not me. I watched you kiss him. Then I took you home and you put your head - and I’m sorry but you really need a trim - on my shoulder half the night. When you weren’t asking me to tell you where Asha hid your snowflake jumper, you were saying ‘give us a kiss’ and puckering your lips in a silly way."

There was so much to process, most of all that he really didn’t know what Asha had done with his snowflake jumper, but the overriding thought was that he’d kissed Loras thinking he was kissing Robb, and Robb was upset he kissed Loras.

"Robb, I…"

Robb was about to march out the front door half-naked. Theon knew the neighbors would hate him, but for the sake of their relationship, and Robb’s health (it wasn’t that warm), Theon had to stop him.

His head still ached enough that he didn’t run as much as fall on top of Robb, who was, fortunately, near their beat up sofa.

Their arms and legs tangled as Robb made a feeble effort to stand up.

"Your breath may be good enough for snot-nosed Tyrell, but it’s bloody well not good enough for me."

Theon wanted to laugh at noble, stoic Robb pouting like a 10-year old, but if he laughed, his head would split wide open. 

He was too groggy to even thumb wrestle, much less take on Robb in a full battle, so he spoke as quickly as he could, hoping to get the desired result.

"I thought I was kissing you. I wanted to kiss you.”

Robb’s only response seemed to be disbelief.

"So you just saw ginger hair and went for it? Good thing Ygritte wasn’t there. She and Jon would be picking their teeth with your bones."

"That’s not the type of bone I had in mind, Robb."

Bad joke or not, at least it shut Robb up. Theon continued, knowing he’d never say any of this again, and not being sure he’d even be allowed to speak to Robb again by the end of the conversation. At this point he was too bone tired to even particularly care. 

"I’ve fancied you since I was 12 years old, Robb. I’ve tried to keep that to myself, cause I know I’m not on your level. Never even believed I would be close to your level. Last night I couldn’t. And then I made a proper prat of myself in ways I apparently can’t even remember but which I’m sure I’ll see photos of in my inbox as soon as I can remember my own name, let alone my fuckin’ password. So if you can’t live with me anymore, or be my mate…I guess it’s better we know now."

He braced himself for whatever reaction Robb would have, at least willing himself to not shatter until he gathered up his meager crap and crawled out the front door.

"Well, Theon…"

Robb looked so serious Theon almost let himself out.

Until the serious face turned to a sly smirk, one that would even make Theon blanch. 

"As it happens, I’ve fancied you since I was 11."

Theon’s first reaction was to roll his eyes that Robb had once again topped him…and not in the way he wanted.

When he realized what Robb had actually said, it took everything he had not to burst into tears, because he still couldn’t be quite that soppy, not even with…not even with Robb.

Apparently sensing his dilemma, Robb gently nudged him aside, getting off the sofa and, with a strong hand, helping Theon do the same.

"We’re holding hands," Theon smirked, softly, proudly.

Robb gave him a lovesick stare in response.

"And that’s all we’ll do until you brush your teeth," he teased.

"Then what?" Theon asked, drinking in the light of Robb’s stare, eyes sparkling in a way that was so open and happy, it almost scared him.

"Then I fix you a proper breakfast."

"Then what?"

"Then," Robb sighed, venturing one last smug grin, "I properly shove my tongue down your throat."

Not a bad way to start the new year.


End file.
